


reuniting (across the operating table)

by 4wholecats



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [12]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Shin Monshou no Nazo | Fire Emblem: New Mystery of the Emblem
Genre: Blood and Gore, Disembowelment, Febuwhump 2021, Gen, Near Death Experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: The little section of underbrush they were hiding in would make for fine cover until then, provided that Belf didn’t bleed out first.He gasps again, as if hoping to prove Sirius’s plans worthless.
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114982
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	reuniting (across the operating table)

**Author's Note:**

> maybe belf has a little gay crush on camus but thats a personal opinion with no relevance to this story (unless you want it to be)

Belf chokes down another dry sob next to him. Sirius tries his best not to look at the other man's face, tear streaked and blotchy as it is. Something wet and slippery twitches against the palm of his hand, soaking through his glove. He rearranges his grip to get a better hold on the fraction of intestine that is so desperately trying to escape the other knight’s body through the slash that the manakete had left behind. Belf’s voice slurs incoherently, hands also grasping for purchase in the bloody area, only to be smacked away by the flat of Sirius's palm. 

“Stop it,” the masked knight growls, using his free hand to lightly pin the other’s arm to his side for a moment in the hopes that it would stick there. It doesn't, this time swinging up to yank and pull at the fastenings of Belf’s ruined coat. The injured man’s breaths come in shallow and quick.

“I-I- I can’t- I can’t breathe-”

“You’re panicking. Move your hands,” Sirius responds, as calm as he can manage. His free hand replaces Belf’s, undoing the buttons of his thick war coat and nudging his lapels aside. His shirt is completely soaked through with blood. The dragon’s sharp claws had gone almost lethally deep. Almost.

A healer would be able to fix this, but they would need to get here soon. Sirius glances around. The battle has moved on from their position, but the army would need to circle back toward them eventually in order to route the last few manaketes on the other side of the bridge… The little section of underbrush they were hiding in would make for fine cover until then, provided that Belf didn’t bleed out first. 

He gasps again, as if hoping to prove Sirius’s plans worthless. 

“Y-you…”

“Stop talking.”

“Y…”

“What did I just say?  _ Stop talking. _ ”

Every breath from the smaller man sounds like a death rattle. His eyes bulge from their sockets, and when he opens his mouth, a trickle of blood dribbles from the corner. His skin is pale- paler than it was just a minute before. He’s dying, and both of them know it.

Belf’s head lolls to the side as he lets out another gasp, the muscles in his jaw tensing under his waxy skin. His hands lurch from the dirt again, and Sirius prepares to guard the wound again, only to jump as one lands on the side of his face, pulling weakly on the fastenings of his mask. He leans away, far enough to dislodge the hand before it can accomplish its mission, and fixes Belf with an angry glare.

“Y-you won’t oblige me… even on my d… deathbed?” Belf’s voice is a thin whisper.

“You’re not on your deathbed, so no. I’ll do no such thing,” Sirius responds firmly. Belf doesn’t immediately respond, but his intestines do, pushing upwards against Sirius’s hand, begging to see the sun. “... But you’ll be in less pain if you stop moving around.”

Belf sniffles, eyes becoming glassy and unfocused. “I-it’s funny… Sir….”

“No it isn’t. Quiet down.”

“I didn’t… even finish… my sentence…”

“The more you talk, the more energy you waste.” Sirius’s head jerks up as the sounds of battle shift just a bit. The army is starting to circle back around towards them.

“We h-held out… for so long… in hiding…” Belf whispers, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Ironic… that I should d-die here… just as you’ve returned to us…” He takes a deep, stuttering breath, “Or are you a g-ghost… here to take… me to the… after…”

His sentence trails off as his eyes slide shut. Sirius hisses, bringing his free hand to the man’s face and smacking his cheek lightly. There’s no response, but the injured man’s chest still rises and falls with shallow breaths. Still alive, just unconscious.

The sound of footsteps snaps Sirius back to attention as someone stumbles through the undergrowth towards them. White robes, a wooden staff….

“Took you long enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> PERHAPS! COMMENT! AND! READ! MY! OTHER! STUFF? if you like,
> 
> anyways i cant believe belf won cyl5 in a total landslide


End file.
